Demon Souls
by SeekerAstria
Summary: A witch created them, and it is the witches who could destroy them. The 'way of magic' brings chaos to humans and gods alike.


A/N – This is hopefully going to be a longer, slightly different fic than my previous ones. So far I've been looking into particular characters and points in canon for my fics. But a possible storyline struck me a while ago, and this is what has come of it.

In terms of canon, this follows the manga's plot, and diverges from it around chapter 60. That is, 61 and those that will follow do not strictly apply. I'm using what the Baba Yaga arc and ch.61 gave us, but in a slightly different way. Consider this to be set at some point after the kids return to Shibusen, and when Kid has been rescued from dear mister Noah's literary limbo.

Chapter 1 – The Witch and the Blade

Bringing the shortsword up into his original stance, Black Star completed the form with less than his usual vigour. He then smacked the blade against the side of Shinigami's mirror, ignoring the bespectacled glower he received from one of the Death Scythes for doing so.

"Damn it" He growled, "this is nothin'! Just a hunk of metal."

Beside the boy, examining his own hunting knife, Sid grunted agreement.

"I know they're rubbish substitutes compared to the real thing, but it's the best we have to go on."

"No little knife like this is good enough for the great Black Star. No-one..."

"Yeah, I know." Sid grinned sadly up at him, understanding that Black Star didn't find it easy to express just how much Tsubaki actually meant to him.

"I don't even remember how long it's been since I was on a mission without Mira." He ran a finger along the flat of his blade, sighing. He was reflective, but Black Star's expression was, for the first time in days, fiercely determined.

"I'm going to find 'em. Find the witches who did this and make them pay!"

_That_ was the boy Sid Barrett knew. But he wasn't the only one affected by the spell that had stripped the Weapons of their power of transformation, not by a long way.

Looking around the Death Room, Sid noted the mixture of people there. Most were meisters who were capable either of unarmed combat or of using a 'normal' weapon they'd been supplied with. As such, that number was made up of several older meisters of two- or, like Sid himself, three-star ranked graduates. The Weapons who possessed secondary abilities, like Harvar d'Eclair and Jackie Dupree were hanging towards the back of the group, perhaps feeling unneeded or useless under the circumstances. But they were there to help, and that was what mattered; morale in Shibusen hadn't been completely crushed by the actions of the witches.

The group had been talking amongst themselves, but heads turned towards the door as Shinigami approached the mirror, standing tall and gaining the attention of his staff and students simply through his presence. And well he might, for the Shinigami was looking uncharacteristically severe as Spirit took his accustomed place at his meister's side. The Death Scythes hadn't been excluded from the witches' spell, and Albarn had been left effectively defenceless. Not having quite the same responsibilities as that elite group, Sid couldn't imagine what was going through the man's mind at the moment.

To Shinigami's left was Death the Kid, his normally proud yet nonchalant bearing marred by the knowledge that his Weapons were not at his side. Whether through pent-up guilt or anger, his head was bowed and earlier Sid was sure he'd seen those weird skulls that surrounded the young god when he got especially agitated. People had been staring until Shinigami had quietly told his son to calm down. The senior meister made a mental note to remind Yumi to keep an eye on Kid. Of all the people preparing to undertake this mission, Kid and Black Star were perhaps the most potentially volatile, two very different boys sharing the trait of possessing strength they didn't always know what to do with.

But they, like the rest of them, would have to learn. For the sake of Shibusen, the mission must be a success. Through the years the Weapon race had been despised by some even as Shibusen had employed its children for their own operations. And now some of those who had created the Weapons – the witches – had made to cripple them, and had done so with devastating success.

What was more, it was the suggestion of another witch, Kim Diehl, that had sparked the inclusion of so many students into the operation. Reacting to the pressure from angry peers, Kim had gone to Death Scythe and the staff with a suggestion; use her knowledge of magic and her fellow witches, along with those Shibusen members who were able, to undo the damage that had been done. Sid rose as the teams were assembled, for a time splitting him and Black Star up. In a matter of days, the status quo of Shibusen had been rocked once again; they had to set a witch to catch a witch and would fight them with their own destructive Weapons to regain what the race had lost in so short a time.

Shinigami's mask turned as his gaze passed over his staff, his warriors. He clapped his hands and raised one finger: "Right! Pay attention, everyone! Here's what's going to happen!"

---

_Two weeks before:_

"And _then _he said we should go out for a meal. What do you think?"

"I think you need to-" Brian ducked as another load of rocks thudded into the corridor in front of him, "pay attention!". Not for the first time during this mission, he pulled Estha back before she blundered into the next trap. Whoever had created this maze had a sense of humour, and had clearly watched too many action films. To top it off, the mission had been a dead-end. He was going to have _words_ with that little Death Scythe. Six days of travel, walking god-knows how many miles, and it turned out that the artefact they'd been sent to retrieve wasn't even in the temple. All Brian Weller needed now was for the entire damned thing to come crashing down on his sweating head. At this rate, he was going to get just that.

"He's kind of cute, I guess."

"Estha, I will _pay_ for you two to go out if you stop daydreaming and get moving!"

"Huh. Nice. Where do you think, then?" Estha babbled on, jumping over a row of spikes with barely a glance. "What about that Thai place on Herrick Street?"

Brian looked back at her with eyes bulging in disbelief; "You kidding me, right? You're _actually_ taking the piss-"

They'd reached the exit, bursting out from the stuffy darkness of the temple corridor into fiercely bright sunshine. Brian bent down, hands on his knees and panting hard. Searing heat had never felt so good. Beside him, Estha was giggling between catching her breath.

"We got out! Yes!" She held up a hand to her partner in triumph, and he took it firmly. Sometimes, a successful mission was getting out alive, be it from kishin or booby-traps. Or witches.

Estha's laughter faded and Brian scowled as his soul reacted to the same presence hers had. So, it wasn't so easy. It was _never_ easy. In the middle of a clearing, only now did they realise they were terribly exposed. A bush rustled, and a figure approached. Some witches liked to adopt telling clothing that reflected their animal theme, and others simply had the physical traits to match. With this one, it was hard to tell. But it didn't matter to a Weapon and his meister. Quickly transformed, Brian grinned as Estha swung him over one shoulder;

"_Hey. _Now_ we're getting somewhere."_

---

No-one looked up as the door to Shibusen's staff-room thudded open. There were few amongst the faculty who were known to make overly-dramatic entrances, so another was not cause for alarm or even interest.

"Hey! You've got some explaining to do!"

Brian strode over to the desk Yumi Asuza was working at, and slammed a fist down onto the open page of her folder. Had it not been for that, she might not have reacted. Instead, she raised her head calmly and met the man's gaze.

"Excuse me?"

"You gave us the location, the damn coordinates, and what do we find? Nothing. Nada. A temple full of rocks, and spikes, an' tunnels, an-"

"The artefact wasn't there." Estha broke into her partner's loud rant with the point of this interruption. Asuza blinked, momentarily thrown by this simple fact.

"You were in Mexico, yes, assigned to collected the magical artefact?" The specifics of the item were not relevant, and indeed Weller and Meyers had not been told them.

"Which wasn't _there_!" Brian snarled, thumping the table once more. Asuza pulled her folder out of his reach and turned to the filing cabinet behind her.

"I'm terribly sorry for this error, but I assure you the coordinates I gave were correct when the mission specifications were drawn up." She explained shortly, flipping through the files of the top drawer.

"_Not_ good enough-"

Any further comment from Brian was stopped by Estha, who slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Then someone else must have gotten there first. We encountered a witch when we left the temple. We didn't get a chance to find out what she was doing, though. She, um, fled before we got the chance."

Ignoring the still-growling Weapon, Asuza looked to the other woman.

"I suspect you're right. This is a concern, but not a matter you to need deal with. I shall report this to Death Scythe and Shinigami and we shall see what needs to be done."

Estha frowned at this, "Y'know, we'd be willing to track the witch down if-"

"No. I doubt that will be needed. Now, unless there's anything else I think I can gather the details from your report. You're both aware of the deadline, I trust?" Where possible, written reports had to be submitted within a week of returning from a mission. Brian grunted, "Yeah. Won't be a problem seein' how short they're gonna be!"

"Then you'll have no trouble getting them in on time, then." Asuza concluded, closing her folder with a snap that marked the end of the conversation.

The pair remained as Asuza headed down the hall, heels clicking a rhythm against the flagstone.

"What do y'think?" Estha muttered after a moment.

"I think she's bullshitting us."

"Then it's all we're going to get. If this involves the Death Scythes and she won't tell us, no-one will."

"Not even Albarn? Word is he blabbed stuff in a bar."

"Small stuff from what I heard. Besides, want to try getting him to talk when he's sober?"

Brian seemed to consider this, but then gave a loud snort of laughter, "Gotcha. He's a no-go, then."

"Still bothers me, though." Estha lent her head against the wall, fiddling with her hair.

"Me too, missy. Witches never mean _anything_ good."

---

From the border of Death City, the desert stretched out beyond the horizon. Taking any direction would _eventually_ lead to civilization – towns, cities of a more familiar sort than the home of the Shinigami. But centuries of harbouring a settlement of unusual creatures, gods and 'demons' alike had done odd things to the land. So it was that apparently out of nowhere a building rose from the sand. The low, flat structure had once covered a wide area but now all that remained were ruins. Walls had half-collapsed, rubble now played host to the reptilian and plantlife of the arid land. The only sound was of the wind whistling through the forgotten building, bringing with it dust and a single traveller.

Caleb growled under his breath as he squeezed through the gap between two slabs of rock that had once been an archway. The long robes he wore protected him from the sun whilst leaving him boiling within the heavy layers. Not for the first time, he wished he possessed his family's ability to transform. An animal form of some sort would be preferable to this annoyance. But for once in his life, what he _was_ capable of was actually an advantage. It wasn't often that any member of the Assembly would give a witch's bastard son the time of day. Unfortunately, the one in question seemed to be late.

With time to spare, he slid a small package out from under his robes. He had been assured by the man who'd given it to him that it was absolutely what Caleb and his associates were after. Mummies tended not to bleed, after all. Unwrapping the contents, he scowled at the lump of flat rock and the stain that covered it, wondering if it would be enough. He knew as well as any witch that enchanting a person worked best if you had part of the intended target. But months had passed since the pyramid had been shot to pieces, and he did not trust his source in Cairo quite as far as he could throw him. Suddenly, Caleb's ears pricked up at a sound from behind him. Doubts would have to wait. The witch was here.


End file.
